Eyes
by RikaandHerPikachu
Summary: It'll take something grand to pry the shut open.


Considerably, he had terrible eyesight; he wore glasses over his brown eyes, his observant brown eyes, to fix this. With his height, he could see the whole of the playing ground. He had the coverage, the ability, to successfully block shots, but the affinity, the longing, toward application had been forgotten in the past.

Did he really want to put the effort into something that was _just_ a club? That was _just_ not worth it.

No.

He couldn't.

Wouldn't.

There was no way he would dare waste emotional attachment on such a club, such a club that denied his hardworking brother the spot he worked so hard to earn. This club, this club that disallowed his brother that spot, the club threaded with guys who hot-bloodedness ran so, so uselessly.

Closed, he leaned against a wall, deciding not to actually practice, he didn't feel like trying in this practice camp.

"Naturally, you're talented, _King_, but you keep putting the effort in. Make a mistake, and you'll be cast aside, so reckless, you are. Aren't you _afraid_ of what would happen if you unleash the dominative _King_ inside you?" He laughed, standing up straight.

Really, guys like Hinata and Kageyama infuriated him, people who fought the undeniable, people who were completely better but couldn't actually manage teamwork. With those passes so accurate, it "scared" him, with jumps so high to try to combat lacking of height, these were the ones that he found most… amusing to tease.

Shut, he was by no means a team player.

He smirked, mocked, laughed at misfortune, tease – he couldn't consider himself a true crow at heart yet, but they insisted way too much.

Apart, childhood friend, Yamaguchi, he trained so much – how pointless- wasn't there so many people ahead, better – he was going to be hurt, no doubt. Yet Yamaguchi never got discouraged.

Stuck, by keeping minimal, he avoid any potential dismissal pain – don't invest too much. From his smug grin to his amused chuckle, these he mocked were fools, so he thought.

He pushed up his glasses, so dim, so fogged; he glanced at the others – he, one of the tallest, chose to ignore his upperclassmen, he slipped out of view, at least he thought he had. May as well leave.

"Tsukishima! Where do you think you're going?"

Angered shouts, annoyed, more so, but why take the short one seriously? That Hinata kid, he really didn't feel like listening.

"See? I told you he had a bad personality."

Tsukishima ticked.

"Won't even turn around. Listen, Tsukishima! Like it or not, we're allies!"

"I don't like it."

"Neither do I, but we have to deal with it."

Tsukishima debated it, putting his headphones on his ears. A mental battle, that really wasn't so hard fought. A quick decision in the end.

He waved, dismissively, backwards. "Aware of that – I don't have to like you, though. And you don't have to like me."

A team, but not entirely. Not quite yet. He just couldn't see the worth in letting himself be consumed by a cycle of wasted effort.

Closed, perhaps his bad eyes, his shrouded eyes, weren't the only eyes of his that couldn't see perfectly. Blind, to the truth, the support of Karasuno and the crows – the flock of crows that insisted teamwork, in games and in practices – this was present. He shut out effort still. The fun potential that volleyball held to him in the past, this he shut in. He wouldn't open his eyes, wouldn't listen just yet.

Headphones on, glasses fogged, it would take someone close, someone who knew, someone that had an opinion that mattered, to allow his eyes to flutter open, to see.

He stuck his hands into his pockets, sometimes, these people were a pain – a joke. But, this "just-a-club" team, they _had_ potential, and he _was_ apart of it. He looked back, toward the gathering of the team.

Arms crossed from Tanaka, Nishinoya, and Hinata (a pout from him thrown in as well). Sighing from Sugawara and Azumane, a frowning Sawamura, and a glancing away Kageyama. Yamaguchi's arms were drooped, extended. Tsukishima shook his head, shrugged his shoulders, eyes shut, he whirled around, walking away.

There was a crash behind him. He wouldn't open his eyes, but, he couldn't help but burst out into laughter as he heard shouts about how they were going to learn "not to laugh" from one of the upperclassmen.

Eyes shut, Tsukishima knew what had happened.

But, he wasn't willing to look back with his eyes open yet.


End file.
